


Four-Letter Word and the Guts to Say It

by roxyryoko



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Confessions, Dancing, F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Fluff and Fluff, Goddess Tower, Kinda, Post canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:48:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25676113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roxyryoko/pseuds/roxyryoko
Summary: "Huh,” he drawled, confusion evident in his tone. Caspar turned around, but rested back on his elbows. “The Goddess Tower.”“Yep, sure is!” she bubbled as she crossed the room and joined him on the parapet, pillowing her chin on crossed arms.Her elbow bumped his forearm and her heart sped up. She closed her eyes and willed herself to calm the traitorous palpitations.Everything had occurred according to plan so far. Surely, the rest would fall into place. Even if this was Caspar.“And you know what day it is, right?” She glanced at him expectantly.Cyan eyes blinked down at her. “Uh...Saturday?”Caspar plans to embark on his travels tomorrow and Hilda desperately needs him to ask her along. Or else her heart might break.IllustratedHilspar Week, Day 4: Sincerity
Relationships: Caspar von Bergliez/Hilda Valentine Goneril
Comments: 18
Kudos: 54





	Four-Letter Word and the Guts to Say It

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my second fic for Hilspar week. I'm posting a bit early because Day 2 and Day 3 prompts are still works in progress.
> 
> I really wanted to write a fic off the art work I drew back in January! And also explore how Caspar's endings describe his journey as one of self-discovery, so I touched on that a bit in this fic. :D

“Cmon, Hilda!” Caspar complained lightheartedly as Hilda led him up a narrow, winding stairwell. “Can’t I look yet?”

As he had promised when they snuck out of the Professor’s rather taxing inauguration ceremony, his eyes remained obediently squeezed tight. However, Hilda could tell by the way his eyelids twitched at every new clue of their location and the repetitive requests for permission to open his eyes, sheer stubbornness was the only thing granting him the patience to keep them that way.

Even if he did give in and peek, he'd be hard-pressed to find any substantial clues as to their whereabouts. Only faint rays of sunlight peeked through cracks in the masonry, barely illuminating the dim enclosure. Hilda could scarcely see a foot ahead herself, and had forsaken a torch for the warmth of Caspar’s hand. Instead, she guided her fingertips along the wall, feeling every crack and crevice, and took each step leisurely. 

The rest of his mannerisms betrayed Caspar's lack of forbearance. For the tenth or twelfth time during their ascent, his boot bumped against her heel, his eager tread colliding with her ambled pace. He apologized, barking a laugh that easily drowned out the reverberating clicks of their boots on the stone stairs. 

Once again he whined, elongating her name, “Hilda, come on. How about now?”

Hilda giggled as she yanked Caspar’s arm, maneuvering him around a broken step. She answered his question with a playful, “Nu-uh! Not yet!”

He groaned before bellowing, “Then speed up the pace!” 

Suddenly, he jolted up the steps, seemingly unhindered by lack of sight despite how his shoulder scraped along the wall. Hilda’s arm twisted as he quickly overcame her, and her body twirled around to follow his momentum. She screeched a protest and stumbled up the steps behind him.

“Caspar!” she cried as her efforts to resist his pull were rendered useless. “I don’t want to get all sweaty!”

“You won’t! Cmon, how much farther can it be? We've been climbing steps forever!”

“You’re going to trip and then _I’m_ going to fall too!” 

Just then, she teetered over as if on cue, barely managing to catch herself against his bicep. He halted for all but a moment so she could regain her balance, then resumed his relentless stride, taking multiple steps at a time. 

More and more light poured into the stairwell as they drew closer to the top, highlighting Caspar’s strong cheeks and upturned lips. Such little light, but Hilda dared to think that Caspar radiated an effulgence that burned brighter than anyone she knew or would ever know.

Now, just like always, he moved with such an effortless determination, confident and sure despite uncertainty. So effortless Hilda couldn’t believe he still obeyed their agreement. After all, she probably would have given up at the first mild inconvenience. It spoiled the fun if he figured out their destination early, though, and she’d rather leave all his expectations and reservations in the dark for as long as possible. 

“You opened your eyes, didn’t you!” she accused. “Caspar! You cheater!”

“No way!” He turned his head back towards her to prove his eyes were, indeed, still closed. “This is pure instinct.” 

Hilda frowned, not quite believing him, and was about to issue another complaint when his boot caught on crumpled stone. He flailed forward, tugging Hilda along. Luckily, he caught himself with his free hand and she crashed into his back. Still, he grunted painfully when his knee slammed against the sharp corner of a step. 

Hilda skipped around to his front. “Some instinct,” she mocked with a roll of her eyes.

“Hey, at least you didn’t fall too.” He clamored to his feet and brushed a few embedded pebbles and a layer of dirt from his palm and onto his robe. “I took the blow for you.” 

She snorted a laugh and squinted to inspect his knee. A small oval of blood seeped through the fabric above his kneecap. 

“My hero. I’d prefer arriving at our destination cut-and-bruise-free.”

Caspar shrugged dismissively and took a more cautious step up the stairs. “Eh, don’t worry about it. Barely feel it.”

Hilda looped her arm through his own, the new grip granting her greater power to enforce her own pace. They took the steps in sync.

When he tried to speed up again, she held him back and purred, “Patience, my dear Caspar.”

Finally they arrived at leveled ground. 

Cheerfully, she announced, “We’re here! You’re free to open your eyes.”

Before she even finished speaking, Caspar snapped his eyes open and started examining the circular room. Straight ahead of them was a parapet, elegant columns bordering its perimeter, vegetation almost completely covering each. She watched his gaze follow the twisting, low-hanging vines which sprawled across the ceiling and tangled across the stone masonry of the floor and walls like an encroaching, verdant spiderweb. Nature had thrived in the last six years.

He stepped forward, nudging gently against her hold, and Hilda had to command herself to release him. Before his arm had even completely escaped her fingers she already craved the return of his warmth. 

Tomorrow, he’d set out on a journey and she’d be starved of his touch evermore.

Disappointment was always a familiar friend to Hilda, but tonight she was determined to get what she desired and change his course. He always said he’d grant almost any favor, and Hilda just prayed this one wasn’t too large a burden.

She just had to _ask_. Yet speaking such a request seemed impossible, leaving her mouth dry and throat voiceless.

Caspar strode forward and leaned over the parapet, looking down at the monastery campus below and then out past the spinning propeller of the mill. The sun waned in the sky, radiating an orange glow across a sky painted pink. 

"Huh,” he drawled, confusion evident in his tone. Caspar turned around, but rested back on his elbows. “The Goddess Tower.”

“Yep, sure is!” she bubbled as she crossed the room and joined him on the parapet, pillowing her chin on crossed arms. 

Her elbow bumped his forearm and her heart sped up. She closed her eyes and willed herself to calm the traitorous palpitations. 

Everything had occurred according to plan so far. Surely, the rest would fall into place. Even if this was Caspar. 

“And you know what day it is, right?” She glanced at him expectantly.

Cyan eyes blinked down at her. “Uh...Saturday?”

“No!” She frowned—hopefully more cute than irritated. “Well, yes, but it’s also something much, much more important.”

“Well, duh, it’s the Professor’s inauguration as Archbishop.” 

She shook her head and pivoted around to face him. “Not just that. Today’s also another special day. One that happens every year.”

Her hint fell on deaf ears as his lips quirked into an uncertain, crooked grin. “I’m pretty sure your birthday isn’t for two months.”

Hilda stomped her foot and snapped, “Caspar! It’s Garreg Mach Establishment Day.”

“Oh, right.” His brows furrowed in contemplation, and after a brief pause he added, “So?”

“Well, we’re in the Goddess Tower. And it's nearly night.” She took both his hands— that bittersweet turmoil panged her heart— and pulled him upright, trudging him to the center of the tower. 

The puzzlement continued to contort his features. 

“If the academy was still active it’d be the Ethereal Ball,” she prompted.

At last, he seemed to catch up. 

“I guess it would be, huh?” He inhaled deeply and turned his gaze skyward, perhaps caught up in a fleeting recollection. On the exhale, he sighed, “Man, that seems so long ago now.”

Hilda hummed in agreement and playfully shifted her weight from one leg to the other. Caspar stood motionless, teal eyes tracking as she swayed back and forth to the melody of a faded memory. The romantic in her would even dare to describe his fixation as entranced. She wondered if he noticed how his grip tightened around her fingers.

“You asked me to dance, remember?” She smirked. “More than once.”

A faint blush colored his cheeks and he broke their eye contact. Hilda’s breath caught. Though his bashfulness was nothing new, she couldn’t help but hope it could be proof that she didn’t bring him here just to be disappointed.

“Yeah,” he muttered. “And you turned me down the second time. Said you couldn’t dance with the same partner.”

“And the third time, too,” she giggled, and he tensed, the faintest pout on his lips. “You were very adamant. It was quite endearing.”

He shrugged and she swore his blush deepened. With a huff, he replied, “I just—you were really fun to dance with, you know.”

Now Hilda’s cheeks blossomed into their own shade of red.

“Well,” she said, feeling suddenly demure. “I wish I had accepted again. Most of my partners had two left feet. You were surprisingly skilled.”

“Surprisingly?” he blurted, obviously offended. 

Caspar’s blush faded and his normal hotheadedness returned. 

He puffed out his chest and boasted, “Of course I was a great dancer! Still am!”

Instantly, a selfish want consumed her thoughts. Hilda leaned forward with a playful smile and shook their entangled hands, challenging him.

“Then what are you waiting for? Prove it!”

A broad, cheeky grin split Caspar’s face. “Oh, I’ll show you, don’t worry. You’re gonna be floored!”

Caspar’s grip tightened on her hands the instant before he jerked her to the right, sweeping them into rapid revolutions. Yelping from surprise, Hilda stumbled into step, struggling to keep up with his quick stomps. She couldn’t quite discern the specific dance he had begun, but she followed his lead, chasing his every step across the cobblestone. As they spun round and round, the tower blurred around them, Caspar’s beaming grin the only thing remaining in focus. 

He howled with laughter, so boisterous, so free that it spread to Hilda, contagious. She threw her head back, hair trailing behind her in ribbons, and giggled just as loud and unbridled. As if encouraged, his pace intensified, whipping her about faster and faster, counterbalancing her weight so she could briefly arch back and enjoy the rush, liberated. Under his care, she always felt safe, both from harm and judgement. She could be herself, and Hilda didn’t want such protection to cease.

Just when she felt confident with the rhythm and steps, he lunged them the opposite direction. With a similar want of grace as the dance’s beginning, Hilda fumbled into the new orientation.

“Caspar!” she complained with a titter. “What in Fodlan is this dance supposed to be?”

Caspar laughed louder, a wild rumble, and swept his arm around her back, turning them to march side by side in a circle. With his free hand he clapped the beat on his thigh.

“It’s a Gronder Reel, obviously!” He turned them abruptly about and led them into a reverse rotation, continuing to clap with the opposite limbs.

“There’s only two of us! We need at least another pair for that kind of dance.”

“Ah, cmon! Just pretend!”

With such boyish innocence and excitement held in his voice, of course she had to indulge him.

Caspar released her, and quickly jumped to her front, leaping into a flourish of kicks and stomps. Hilda mimicked his footwork, and with each step they traded she grew more emboldened, aided by his guiding, enthusiastic claps. It’d been many years since Hilda participated in a folk dance, and while she was expecting a more intimate choice, he brightened the tower with his cheer. She couldn’t help but be swept away in the fun. 

Just when she felt confident with this section, he clasped their hands together and whirled her into a spin, using the momentum to immediately break away to dance with a spectre of a partner. Hilda shot him a pout, but followed suit, making a show of giving doe-eyes at the invisible person. 

When he bounded back toward her, Hilda playfully shuffled away, forcing him to give chase. She laughed giddily, which turned into a squeal when he wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her off her feet, twirling her round a full rotation, before returning her to the ground. A smug, triumphant grin on his face, he flung them into a second set. 

Shared laughter echoed in the Goddess Tower as they chased each other’s shadows around the circular room in set after set. Occasionally, she fumbled, or he missed a step—and she was certain he changed the set from previous rounds—but Caspar made up for all mistakes or inconsistencies with his ardent and confident lead, and she couldn’t help but enjoy his haphazard changes to make the dance for two. Such uninhibited spontaneity was so completely Caspar.

Hilda grinned foolishly, relishing the merriment in his voice, the delightful sparkle in his eyes, and just how right her body felt tucked against his—all these aspects were indispensable and irreplaceable now. But a small doubt in her mind nagged her that to Caspar, his fun with her was only fleeting. After all, how could he cut their ties so easily tomorrow if he felt the same as she did? 

Undoubtedly, it was her fault. She never told him her secret—that she loved him. She waited around, hoping he’d notice, despite knowing how horrible he was at recognizing her flirtatious hints. Even dawdling around Garreg Mach all these months after the fall of the Adrestrian Empire, postponing her return to Goneril with letters to Holst emphasizing her part in heralding the dawn of a new world, she still couldn’t get herself to say a simple four-letter word.

Caspar had advised her not to wait around for such things, didn’t he? Time was fleeting and now time was almost up. He’d walk out of her life tomorrow by his own accord and yet...

Each time Caspar returned to her, his enthusiasm grew. He pulled her closer, held her tighter, laughed brighter, and something in his eyes conveyed that he didn’t want to release her to an imaginary partner again. 

And then the time came that he didn’t.

Just when she tugged to break away, Caspar pulled her back, crushing her against his chest and hunching down to her height. Hilda squeaked, surprised. Ragged and warm breath washed over her ear as he buried his face into her tangled tresses. His chest heaved against hers, slowly finding sync with her own rapid inhales and exhales. Their weight shifted from one leg to the other, back and forth, an odd, languid tempo.

“Sorry, kinda tired,” he mumbled, doubtlessly lying—as if such exercise compared to his usual training regimen. 

Still, the timbre in his voice shook the same way as the night he’d reached out for Hilda with such unshielded, solemn need and let her see the weakness beyond his infallible armor of boasts and smiles—the night the ghost of his father haunted his eyes.

Hilda hummed agreement, letting her fingers relax on his back and her chin slot between the muscles of his shoulder. 

“You’ve certainly proven your point,” she said. “You’re an absolutely amazing dancer. You’ve completely worn me out.” 

Just as breathless as she, he preened, “See? You should’ve never doubted me!”

They stayed that way for several quiet moments, swaying gently, catching their breaths. Hilda inhaled deeply, the familiar scent of cinnamon and clove and sweat that defined him wafted into her senses. He didn’t loosen his grip on her, instead, he dared to squeeze tighter, drawing her up on her toes. And Hilda couldn’t help the thought shrieking in her mind, begging him not to let go. Ever.

Hilda turned her cheek to his neck, lips skirting against his skin as she spoke. “It might not be for the ball, but I’m really grateful you came up here with me.” 

She felt a quiver course up his body and he sucked in a sharp breath, the faint sound whistling through his teeth.

“Me too,” he muttered, a hazy quality to his voice.

Hilda smirked as an amusing thought struck her mind. “What would you have done six years ago if I would have asked you here?”

Caspar shrugged. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I was pretty caught up in all the food and dancing. And, I never really understood all the fuss about going up here.” He drew back and looked around. “I mean, what’s the big deal?”  
  
Hilda stopped swaying. Caspar’s momentum pushed her into one last swing before he stilled as well. Slowly, she pulled away and retracted her arms, dropping them to her sides. He reluctantly let his own arms fall slack as well, but his hesitance proved his confusion. Suddenly, she found her shoes a much more fascinating subject than his face, but she could feel his eyes boring into the top of her head. 

Despite the dancing, despite the embrace, despite the fun and good cheer, being at the Goddess Tower with her obviously meant nothing significant to him.

Curse her stupid heart for expecting so much.

She wanted to flee, but it was a long hike back to her dorm and he’d catch up effortlessly. Instead, her mind raced for excuses, for ways to change the subject, and her heart kept her feet planted. If she didn’t tell him tonight— didn’t ask the favor she desperately needed from him— he’d leave without her and he’d never, ever know how she felt. 

Still, tears stung the corners of her eyes.

Unexpectedly, he cupped her chin and gently coaxed her to meet his gaze. She didn’t want to look at him, but she did, finding his brows knitted in concern and confusion. 

“Hey, now, what’s wrong?” he asked, wiping away a traitorous tear. “What’d I do? Can’t fix it if you don’t tell me what it was.”

Hilda averted her eyes and shrugged. Her mouth felt dry and her voice sounded foreign as she replied, “I guess it’s meaningless to you, but I always found the legend of this place rather romantic.”

Caspar smiled softly. “Hey, if it was important to you, I’m sure I would’ve— “ Suddenly, his eyes widened. “Wait. Romantic?”

Hilda bit her lip. Now or never. 

“Of course it’s important, Caspar! I thought you’d want to make a vow with me before you—” her voice wavered— “before you leave."

She wanted to scream a reprimand at herself. Even now, she couldn’t _ask,_ her games spilled from her lips in habit.

"A vow?” he inquired, speaking the words slowly. His tone betrayed his ignorance. “Like oaths of chivalry? If that’s all you wanted, I don’t get why we had to come all the way up— ”

Hilda gaped. “ _Chivalry_?” 

His face scrunched up in further confusion. Now Hilda was equally perplexed. Then a thought occurred to her, though it seemed so unlikely even for someone as romantically blind as he.

Skeptical, she added, “Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of the legend, Caspar.”

He attempted nonchalance, but it was unconvincing. “Uh, right, the legend! Of course I have.” He paused, bashful uncertainty creeping onto his features. “Maybe remind me about it though."

Hilda rolled her eyes, but her heart felt lighter. He was just being typical Caspar, oblivious to a fault. Maybe, there was still a chance that she could change his mind about his solo journey.

She laced her hand over his, drawing it away from her cheek and above her heart. "Well, when a man and a woman make a promise together in the Goddess Tower, the Goddess makes sure that vow will come true. But, that vow has to be made during the Ethereal Moon on the night of the ball."

He stared at her a long moment, processing. 

“Right, right. I, uh, remember." He fell quiet, fixating on their entwined hands. “So you wanna make some kind of pact, I take it?”

Hilda’s smile widened and heat rose to her cheeks. She could work her magic on him after all. If this kept up maybe he’d do all the work and ask her desire in her stead. Though, she probably needed to give him a bit more direction. She leaned forward, craning her neck up to look at him.

“Well, isn’t there a promise _you_ want to make to me?” 

His eyes flew wide and he leaned back, taken by surprise. 

She pouted, adding, “Hopefully one that has nothing to do with things like chivalry or fighting.”

Caspar was palpably helpless, barely managing to stutter, “Uh, sure, I guess, yeah, there is.” He glanced away for a moment, uneasy, and Hilda hoped, hoped, _hoped_ he was just nervous to proclaim the depths of his affections. 

Hesitantly, he drawled, “I promise to...visit you in Goneril as soon as I can.”

Hilda deflated. Maybe Caspar just needed a bigger push; a big shove right down the hill.

“Aw, that’d be really sweet of you,” she purred, spurring confidence into her voice. She leaned closer. “And what do you want to do when you see me, Caspar? I don’t think I’d mind helping with _your_ luggage after such a long journey.” 

She arched up on her toes, closing the distance between their lips.

If she couldn’t come with him, she supposed she could settle for a visit. Maybe he’d realize how much he missed her.

Just before her kiss landed, Caspar turned his cheek and Hilda’s heart splintered into a thousand fragments. Her lips skimmed across his jaw. Bewildered and dejected, she drew away.

He didn’t dare to look at her as he spoke, an unusual seriousness to his lilt. “I don’t think doing stuff like that would be a good idea. I mean, you’ll probably be courting some big shot noble by then.”

Hilda tried to laugh off the pain crushing her heart. “Why would I do that if you’re coming to visit me?” She rubbed the knuckles of his hand still laced with hers as a new idea formed in her mind. “And when you do, I can pull some strings with Holst. I’m sure with a little convincing he’ll be more than happy to welcome you into the Goneril Order of Knights. You are a pretty well decorated war general, so I see no reason why he’d have any reservations.”

His eyes flicked in her direction, dark with vexation. “I don’t wanna be a knight, Hilda.”

Hilda forced her smile and assured, “You wouldn’t be just _any_ run-of-the-mill knight. I’d make sure you were an officer.” 

Caspar sighed and pulled his hand out of her grip. She felt like someone walloped her. 

“Look, it’s not like I wouldn’t appreciate you doing that. House Goneril is a big deal, I get that, but I wouldn’t feel like I earned it, you know?”

“Well, that’s just silly. Of course you deserve it, Caspar. If it makes you feel better then just think of it as a recommendation. And, if you accept, then there’d be no reason for you to go all over Fodlan, fixing little squabbles, trying to earn some attention.”

She reached for his hand at his side, but Caspar backed away.

“Trying to earn some attention?” he repeated, annoyed. “That’s not why I’m traveling, Hilda.”

“Isn’t it? You always said you needed to make your way through military accomplishments. I’m just making sure someone recognizes them.”

“No.” He shook his head. “I mean, that used to be true, but now— Look, I need to figure out who I am.” Hilda’s brows knitted as he paused, gathering his thoughts. “I cut ties with my family, but my father, my aunt and uncle, they did a lot of horrible things during the war, hurt a lot of people, and I couldn’t do anything about it.”

“That’s not your fault, Caspar,” Hilda interrupted, wishing she could hold his hand and offer some comfort. “That’s just what happens in war.”

“I know! I know it is, but I’m still connected. What they did, I— I feel like I gotta make it right. All I’ve ever done was train to fight, and now I— I don’t even know what to fight for anymore. Lots of people need help, but what difference do I even make?”

Hilda stepped forward and dared to grab both his hands. She sweetly rubbed her thumbs over the tops. “I can’t say it will make you feel less guilty, but if you’re a knight of Goneril, you’ll be fighting to protect me.”

“Yeah, but…” Caspar went still, looking down at their hands with a solemn expression.

“Maybe that would be enough,” she mumbled, naively hopeful.

He sighed again. “I don’t know.”

This wasn’t going as she hoped at all. At this rate he’d leave and with the pressure of knighthood, maybe he wouldn’t even visit. She had to stop him, to get him to stay in Goneril, to get him to take her with him. Something! 

Enough games. Enough manipulating. It never worked on him anyway. She had to be brave and say that simple four-letter word.

Hilda drew their hands up to her heart and squeezed them tight. Surprised, he looked up and met her gaze. Never had she seen him look so guilty, so forlorn, and so lost.

“Caspar, I know who you are,” she began, her voice echoing in her mind like the haze of a dream. Her cheeks burned, but she summoned the courage to continue. “You’re the man that I love.”

His eyes widened, and pink flashed onto his own cheeks. And instead of responding, he just looked at her dumbfounded, creating an unsettling atmosphere. Hilda’s pulse throbbed incessantly loud in her ears, drumming out each second. Whatever was left of the shattered remains of her heart was slowly being crushed to dust.

Finally, she prompted nervously, “Well, say something. Don’t just stand there.”

“You l-love me?” he asked, innocently dubious.

Hilda shifted uncomfortably. “Yes, I love you, Caspar. I...I have for a while. Just kind of hoped you’d say it first to take the pressure off me.”

Caspar’s fingers flexed in her grasp and his brow drew, conflicted. When he spoke his voice was strained and unsteady. “Hilda, I’m just the second son of a fallen house. You deserve— I can’t give you much of anything.”

In a small voice, she whispered, “Don’t you love me back?”

His hands clamped tight around hers. “Of course I do!” he shouted and Hilda’s heart fluttered. “That’s why I think you can do so much better!”

Hilda looked him straight in the eye, tears forming in the corners. It was usually so easy to get what she wanted, but he always made her actually have to work. 

“In case you haven’t noticed my family spoils me. I don’t need a dowry or more land or whatever. Sure, I may ask for a favor now and then, but really I don’t need anything from you except your heart. I know that’s a lot to ask, but look, I’m asking! Since when have you cared about what other people think? Let’s just do what we want!”

He looked away again. “Hilda, I want to do that, I really do, but I still gotta figure out for myself who I really am.”

Hilda groaned and yanked her hands free. The next moment, she threw herself into his chest, wrapping her arms around his back. “You’re so stubborn and so stupid! Why do you have to do that alone? I’ve been dropping hints forever! Can’t you see? I’ve been waiting for you to ask me to go with you!”

“You have?” he stuttered. “Wait— You want to come along?”

“Yes! Of course I do!”

“I thought...I thought you wouldn’t want to go. It’s not exactly gonna be glamorous and it’s gonna be a lot of walking and you’ll get dirty and I thought you’d—”

“Who cares about all that! I just want to be with you,” she hiccuped. The fabric of his shirt soaked up the tears streaming from her eyes. “Love me, Caspar! Love me and let me stay at your side.”

Caspar’s arms slinked around her shoulders and the nape of her neck, crushing her tight against him. His fingers tangled in her hair, and his breath washed over her cheek as he whispered, “Cmon, Hilda. The answer was always gonna be ‘yes.’”

Hilda drew in a deep, relieved breath and choked back a sob. She pinched the back fabric of his robe, trying to draw him even nearer. Her heart felt like it would burst with triumph and happiness.

His hand shifted to her chin and delicately tilted it up.

“Hey, now,” he crooned. “There’s nothing to cry about. You wanted to make a vow, right?” 

Hilda nodded, sniffing.

“How about this?” A giant grin split his face and he leaned his forehead on hers. Hilda smiled too, melting into his embrace. “You and me are gonna see the world together. All of it! And we’re gonna have so much fun. We’ll pick a direction and head out that way, doing whatever the heck we please. No one’s gonna hold us back. How’s that sound?”

In answer, Hilda rotated her head up and captured his lips. This time, Caspar responded eagerly, cradling her cheeks in his hands as he waltzed her into a dream. Their lips glided across each other, a gentle rhythm that waxed and waned like the soft hum of a violin, but quickly crescendoed as the orchestra swelled, morphing into a desperate beat. The world revolved, faster, more sporadic than the steps of their previous folk dance. Passion and complete liberation in each press and withdraw, moving in sync as the perfect dance partners, an exchange of fears and trust. 

Hilda wished for this exhilaration to never cease. She wanted to anchor them to this moment and this kiss, but at least now she needn’t fear a drought. There would be many more.

The kiss and the dream broke with Caspar flexing his arms around her hips and lifting her high up into the air. Laughing, he boomed, “It’s a promise then!”

She joined his laughter and nuzzled her nose against his own. “You got it. A vow I’ll never, ever break.”

  


Still chuckling, he set her down, but immediately attempted to snatch her mouth in another fervent kiss. Shared ecstatic grins and hearty laughter created a challenge to keep their lips entangled, and they both could only laugh harder at their failed smooches. 

Finally, he pulled her to his side, keeping her flush against him, and together they looked out the parapet. The sun had almost vanished beyond the horizon. An ocean of blue met a river of pink just where the sun eclipsed the mountains, a dazzling sight to behold. 

Hilda wondered how many other beautiful places they’d visit together.

She leaned her head on Caspar’s chest and glanced up at him, asking “So what direction should we go?” 

His eyes flickered from the sunset down to her. A besotted smile graced his lips when he replied, “You pick, Hilda.”

She hummed thoughtfully for a moment, relishing the warmth radiating off his body. 

“That way!” Hilda pointed east and then smiled coyly at him. “Derdriu’s a pretty romantic place, you know. At this time of year, some of the aqueducts are frozen over and they let you skate on it. Sounds pretty fun, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, it does,” he beamed. “All right! It’s settled. Derdriu it is!”

Hilda squealed and snuggled closer, “Now I’m getting really excited!”

“Me too!” Caspar agreed. “To be honest, I was really bummed about saying goodbye to everyone. Especially you.”

Hilda scoffed, “Apparently not bummed enough. Can’t believe you’d just up and leave a maiden heartbroken. Guess you just expected me to weep all the way back to Goneril.”

“Cmon, it wasn’t like that.” Guilt laced his tone as he nudged her gently

She shot a playful glare up at him. “You better make it up to me then.”

“You bet! Just name it!”

Hilda’s voice fell low and demure. “You didn’t actually say you love me, you know.” 

Caspar stiffened a moment and he wet his lip. “Ah, guess I didn’t, huh?” he drawled in a quiet voice.

A nervous excitement whirled in Hilda’s stomach.

“That’s it?” he confirmed. “That’s all you want?”

She nodded. “That’s all I’ll ever want, Caspar.”

He smiled softly at her and turned her around. One hand caressed her cheek, a tender touch that perhaps would be so surprising to anyone but Hilda. 

“Well, I’m pretty sure that’s something I can do forever.” 

Hilda held her breath.

Despite his obvious anxiety, he confidently confessed what she so wished to hear, a freely given emotion, not a favor or request, not spurred by tricks or manipulation; an affection gifted because he just felt it.

“I love you, Hilda.”

Before he finished saying those four words she already smiled, wide and stupid, absolutely giddy and delighted. It encouraged his own matching, characteristic grin.

“I love you!” he repeated, louder and more emboldened, earning laughter from Hilda.

She drew up on her toes and ghosted her lips above his, teasing, “More than fighting? More than training?”

He chuckled, “More than anything!”

“I never thought I’d see the day where Caspar von Bergliez would love something more than fighting.”

Caspar kissed her lips, light and brief, but it sent shivers up her spine. “Neither did I,” he admitted. “I may not completely get who I am, but I know for sure that I love you, Hilda. And I’m really, really glad you're gonna stay by my side. Keeping you safe and happy, well, I know I gotta do that at least.”

Hilda hummed, “That’s enough for now, Caspar. We’ll figure the rest out. Together.”

“Yeah, you’re right. In the meantime, let’s live the best we can! Doing whatever we want! Have fun and knock some sense into people who need it.”

Hilda laughed. “You can do the knocking, I’ll do the cheering.” Her smile turned crooked. “Though it’d be pretty amazing if you become a famous vigilante. Better than a famous troublemaker.”  
  
“Hey,” he warned, offended.

“Maybe that’s your calling. They’ll tell legends and write ballads about the amazing Caspar von Bergliez, defender of the helpless. You could even be more famous than my brother.”

He cheered up, excitedly agreeing, “Yeah, that’d be pretty awesome, wouldn’t it? Do you really think I could be more legendary than someone like Holst?”

"Why not? You're strong and brave.” She sighed, content. “I hope so anyway. I'd much rather be a famous crusader's beautiful wife than a famous general's lazy little sister."

“You’re not _that_ la— “ Suddenly, Caspar flushed scarlet. “W-wife? Oh, already, uh, thinking about that, huh?”

Hilda shook her head, giggling. “Oh, Caspar, trust me, I’m not in _any_ hurry. Planning a wedding and babies sound like way too much work.” She playfully gagged and then cupped his chin with both hands. “Let’s just enjoy being free for the time being. We’ll be together, and that’s all that really matters.”

He smiled. “Yeah, it is.” He drew close for another kiss when— 

Suddenly, Hilda’s smile turned to a pout. Deviously, she said, “Though, if you _still_ think you owe me, I may have two itsy-bitsy, teeny-tiny favors that you could help me with before we leave in the morning.”

Caspar’s brows scrunched up, skeptical. “Uh, sure? Happy to help!”

She fiddled with one of the buttons of his collar, drumming her index finger over it. “I would appreciate it so, so much, if you could help pack my bag. Obviously, I haven’t had a chance to start.”

He pouted, and asked cautiously, “What’s the second?” 

Hilda beamed a brilliant smile. “You have to challenge Baltie to a fight and win!”

“Pfft, of course I'll win,” he crowed. Confusion colored his tone as he added, “But, uh, why do I gotta fight ‘im?”

Hilda answered his question with another kiss.

END

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! I really am intrigued that Caspar says he doesn't care about being a knight in the advice box but becomes one for Hilda. <3 I think that really proves his commitment to her.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed and if you like Caspar/Hilda check out my other work or find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/roxyryoko)


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